Feasting With Mine Enemy
by HaveYouSeenATimeLord
Summary: Post-Reichenbach. Sherlock comes back after two years and enlists Sally Sparrow's help. But little do they know that their enemies still lurk out there. John/Sherlock
1. They Stumble That Run Fast

**A/N: I had this idea a while back, when I saw a fanfic on another website that had never been finished. I thought "You know what, it seems like these characters would be good together" and thus, this weirdness was born. I hope you enjoy!**

** This takes place post-Reichenbach, so yeah. Probably about two years later.**

…..

Chapter 1

Sally Sparrow sighed. The shop was always slow on Sundays.

She walked over to the window and looked at the crowded street. The people laughed and chattered to each other, unknowing of the strange things that actually happened all the time. _I have seen so much_, Sally thought, _and now I just work in a shop_. She turned around and looked at said shop.

The videos on the shelves were dusty from not being picked up for so long, and the books were falling apart. There were even some books that were kept in shade because the light would damage the age old paper. The blue wallpaper on the walls was still new looking, which was a miracle, considering neither her nor Larry ever did any repair work.

She walked to the counter and ducked down underneath it to find the 'closed' sign. They weren't getting much business anyways, and Larry wouldn't be home for a week; there was no harm in closing early.

She heard the bell ring and nearly hit her head on the desk. She rose and looked at the man who had entered. "I'm sorry sir, but I was just closing…"

"I'm sorry for intruding, but I just got back to London, and I was looking at some shops," The man said. He appeared to be trying to look put together, but was tragically failing; his broad shoulders were slightly hunched, his curly black hair was unruly, and his long black coat was tarnished with dirt and was worn down.

"Have you been out of town long?" Sally asked the stranger_. There's something familiar about him_, she thought.

"Oh yes, quite some time," He grimaced, as if thinking of something painful. "Lots of memories involved with this town. I generally disapprove of memories, but one must sometimes make exceptions."

_I wish I could get rid of my memories_, Sally thought. "Sorry, but who are you?"

The stranger faltered. "I, uhm, I'm no one. Just a fellow, passing through."

"Sure you are," replied Sally. _I wonder if he's on the run. Maybe he's a drug dealer or a bookie_.

The stranger turned to leave and then stopped suddenly. He turned back around. "You don't happen to know an elderly woman by the name of Mrs. Hudson, do you?"

Sally nodded. "She's one of our regulars. Quite the busy-body for being older. Why?"

The stranger gave Sally what might be perceived as a smile. "Oh, no reason," he said, but his blue eyes were brighter than they had been. "Sorry for bothering you Miss…ah."

"Sparrow. Sally Sparrow."

The man quirked his lips. "Interesting name. Goodbye, Miss Sally Sparrow."

He walked towards the door of the shop and pushed it open, walking out the door into the crowded street. Sally walked over to the window and watched him walk; soon – too soon – he vanished into the metamorphous.

She sighed and hung up the 'closed' sign.

…..

**A/N: Don't forget to review! Thanks for reading!**


	2. What's In A Name

**A/N: Yes, Sally Sparrow meeting Sherlock Holmes (in case you're stupid and didn't realize that the stranger was Sherlock.) I hope you enjoy chapter 2!**

…

Chapter 2

"Good morning, Sally." Mrs. Hudson greeted as Sally walked into 221b Baker Street on Monday morning. She hobbled over to take Sally's coat. "Sit down a while, child. Your legs will get tired."

Sally sunk down onto the sofa and looked around the flat. It was sparsely decorated, being in the process of its only tenant, Mr. Watson, moving out, but there were still some spare decorations here and there, along with basic furniture.

"It was nice of you to come 'round, dearie," said Mrs. Hudson.

"No problem, Mrs. Hudson. I'll take coffee."

"Calm your britches, dearie, I'm not a housekeeper," Mrs. Hudson huffed.

"Black, two sugars."

"That's what he used to have," said a voice. Sally looked at the doorway to the parlor and saw a man standing there.

"Oh, John, you woke up. Would you like a coffee too, dearie?"

John winced. "No, just water."

His face was tired looking, with bags under his eyes and pale skin. His usually crisp sweater was wrinkled and frumpy, and his eyes looked so old. He never smiled anymore.

"Good morning Mr. Watson," Sally greeted him cheerfully.

John just nodded at her, and then turned to Mrs. Hudson. "Is she staying for breakfast?" he asked.

"Dear, you know that Sally is always welcome here."

John sighed and picked up his coat.

"Now where are you going, dearie?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Out. Call me when she leaves," John walked to the door and walked out. Sally heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs, and the front door slam shut.

Mrs. Hudson walked over to Sally and handed her the coffee. "Don't mind John, dearie. He's been a little sad since…I think you remind John of him…."

Sally sipped her coffee. "Mrs. Hudson, a man stopped in my shop yesterday and asked about you."

"Oh really? Who was it?"

"I have no idea. He was tall with black hair."

"Oh, I know a lot of men like that, sweetie."

Sally shrugged. "I was wondering if you knew. He seemed interesting enough."

"I would need more information."

Sally racked her brain. "His hair was curly, and he wore a long black coat and a scarf. And he said that he'd been out of town for a while."

"You must've been mistaken."

"Mrs. Hudson, what do you mean? I know what I saw."

"I only know one person who looks like that, and he's….gone."

Sally's jaw dropped. "You don't mean?"

She had never actually seen Sherlock Holmes. Mrs. Hudson hadn't been a regular until after _the incident_, and Sherlock Holmes did not seem like a used bookstore kind of man. Plus, Sally had been on vacation for the whole time of _the incident_, and hadn't managed to find anything related to it; all newspapers had vanished when she asked, and the New Scotland Yard would never tell her anything, even though she herself had helped DI Lestrade with a few cases. The Baker Street residence had no pictures of Sherlock; apparently John had "gone in a mood" and burnt all of them.

So it obviously came as a surprise that that man could've been what Sherlock looked like. "But…he's _dead_."

"Exactly, dearie. So you must've been mistaken."

"Maybe. I think I'm going to go home, all right?"

Mrs. Hudson waved her hand. "See you, dearie."

Sally sighed against the door. This whole scenario could only turn out bad.

….

**A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read! Don't forget to review!**


	3. What a Change is Here

**A/N: I'll be doing this chapter more Sherlock oriented, but then I'll be switching back to Sally. I quite like writing more from Sally's viewpoint. Don't forget to review!**

…

Chapter 3

Sherlock breathed in as he walked slowly down the street. He inhaled the crowded air; all the sights and sounds coming at him at once. Though he would never admit to it, he had quite missed London. Two years abroad had done nothing to keep him from coming back. He glanced at the people who passed him as he stopped to take it all in. _That man is chatting to a woman; he's talking sternly but not fighting. That rules out wife. They're both dressed nicely and smartly, while walking to a cab; the man is leading the conversation, that means he's a business man. That means the woman must be his secretary. The man winces slightly as he gets into the cab. That means he was once injured there and probably had a limp…_

Sherlock trailed off his thoughts there, unwilling to complete his examination. "John had a limp…" He whispered to himself. When he left he had taken to whispering to himself; he liked speaking out loud but didn't want to expose himself by talking to other people. The most they would think was that he was insane, and they wouldn't be too far off.

He started moving again, blending in with the hustling crowd. He halted once more when he passed that little Italian café. He looked through the window…and a shiver went down his spine.

John Watson was sitting at a table in the back, poking at his food but not eating it. Sherlock gasped as John lifted his head a bit. He was shocked at how much John had changed since he had "died", and shock did not come easily to Sherlock.

His face was worn and tired looking, and he was extremely thin. Frown lines were prominent on his face. Sherlock guessed that John had been wearing that same sweater for three days now, maybe longer. His pants were wrinkled and he was very thin, his now baggy clothes hanging on his stick-like frame.

John lifted his head a bit more and looked at the window. Sherlock squeaked a bit as he ducked down quickly, pulling up his collar. He stumbled backwards away from the window and hurried down the street, as a cloud rolled in front of the sun.

On that street, at that moment, a tear rolled down Sherlock Holmes's cheek for the first time.


	4. I'll Thy Assistant Be

**A/N: As I sit here wearing my Sherlock Coat and Scarf**** I can't help noticing that I have written four chapters of this story, and no short little drabbles. So I will be putting up new short stories (maybe song fics, I don't know). They will probably be about Doctor Who or Sherlock, but I just started watching Supernatural, so I don't know. I'm currently working on a Rory one, which takes place during Amy's Choice, but I'm not revealing the song *cough* Eurythmics *cough*.**

**This chapter is dedicated to my friend Mickey, who roleplays with me on Twitter, as the 15****th**** Doctor, among other things.**

…

The door to the shop was suddenly flung open. The man came rushing through the entry, his feet pounding on the ground. He was about to get through the bead curtain to the back room when he heard Sally's fingers drumming against the counter. He barged right past her, not noticing.

Sally sighed and pushed her way through to the room. She stood in the archway and crossed her arms. "Hello, Sherlock."

Sherlock spun around. "Hello, Sally." He was trying to stay composed, but Sally could see the surprise in his face.

"Didn't expect me to know who you were, did you?" Sally asked.

"Well, I have to say, it was quite, ah, unexpected." His lip quirked up in the corner. "All the same, I probably should have expected it."

Sally stepped closer. "I talked to Mrs. Hudson this morning."

The surprise grew on Sherlock's face, though he still tried to hide it. "Oh?"

"She told me who you were. She also told me I was mistaken, because you were dead.

"But you want to know what I think? I think that you never died. They just never figured it out."

When Sherlock spoke his voice was bitter, and he spoke to the wall, rather than Sally. "You're right, I didn't die. And they didn't figure it out. If they just wouldn't have given up so easily!" A tear sprung up in his eyes but quickly vanished. He sunk to the sofa.

"This isn't just about you not being dead, is it?" Sally whispered, as she sunk next to him.

Sherlock rocked back and forth. "He gave up on me. John gave up on me." He breathed.

"I'm sorry Sherlock."

Suddenly, Sherlock pounded a fist on the table. "WHY DID HE NEVER SEARCH FOR ME! I would've been there, if he'd found me, I would have come back…"

"He was too upset, Sherlock. For him it was easier to accept that you were dead than to try to convince himself that you were alive."

"Damn being dead! I should have just come back!" He looked up sharply and tried to compose himself, to hide his emotions. Sherlock Holmes was supposed to be unfeeling, with a heart as hard as stone; though Moriarty did try to burn the heart out of him. Not literally of course.

"Sherlock." Sally's voice snapped Sherlock back.

"What, Sally?" His voice was still wavering slightly and he cursed himself inside.

"I think Sherlock Holmes should make a return to the land of the living."

….

**A/N: God, I am so tired. This chapter took FOREVER to write, but thankfully this will be the only one I'll have trouble with for a while; it's all planned out for the next few chapters, I only need one part in the middle for something, and I'll ask my Twitter friends.**

** Don't forget to review! Anonymous reviews ARE on!**


	5. Palm To Palm Is Holy Palmers' Kiss

**A/N: Thank you SO much for reviewing and reading and hkasjgfhjsdfbvhjdgsfvb I love you all. Especially thanks to Miles on Twitter (we share a name heheheheheh) for reading this and freaking out over it and being a complacent victim to my shameless self-promoting. Seriously Miles, I know you're reading this, and one day, we WILL go to the Emerald City like G(a)linda and Elphie.**

…..

"What are you SAYING Sally! You can't just BARGE INTO MY LIFE with something like this. You're insane; delusional; you're playing with my emotions!" John Watson sunk onto the couch in a ball and sally sighed, feeling sorry for him.

"I'm telling the truth, Mr. Watson. He's…he's back."

"It's impossible to come back from the dead, Sally."

"He was never really gone."

At this remark, John picked up a pillow and chucked it at Sally. She easily dodged it. Sally looked at him and frowned. "John, he misses you. And you don't even care that I'm telling the truth."

"It was easier to think he was dead than to admit…certain things!"

Sally walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Watson, _Sherlock is back_."

John trembled. "Get out of my house. Now."

Sally backed up slowly. "He'll be stopping by tomorrow."

She walked slowly down the stairs to 221B and walked into the street.

…

Sally had come back later that afternoon and finally convinced him that Sherlock really _was_ coming back, and that he _would_ be back for good, and, no, she was _not_ a lunatic.

He still had doubts.

…

John gasped when he saw Sherlock standing on the doorstep. So many thoughts raced through his head as he tried to comprehend the fact that Sherlock was really there, and not a figment of his imagination. Of course, Sally had told him that Sherlock was alive and going to stop by, and come back and everything would be good again, but that didn't stop the shock.

"Sherlock…" he whispered. A tear ran down his cheek. Sherlock reached a hand up to John's face to wipe it off, but John pushed his hand away. "No…no…no…" John whispered as more tears formed in his eyes.

"John…" Sherlock stepped up on the step, closer to him. John looked at Sherlock with bleary eyes as Sherlock once again lifted his hand to John's face. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." John whispered back and gave a tight-lipped smile. Suddenly, Sherlock launched himself at John, pinning him up against the door of 221B. He wrapped his arms around John as John gasped into Sherlock's shoulder, and then dissolved into sobs.

"Sh-Sherlock…I-I th-thought you were d-d-dead." He choked out.

It took a moment of quiet to realize that Sherlock was crying too.

They stood like that, hugging, in silence, until Sherlock said "John?"

"Yes, Sherlock?" The name still unfamiliar from not having been used in so long.

"I love you, John."


End file.
